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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647122">Hannibal's Life in Romania</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrofelicia/pseuds/carrofelicia'>carrofelicia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Regression/De-Aging, Amnesia, Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Slice of Life, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:01:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrofelicia/pseuds/carrofelicia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter hit his head pretty hard on the sharp rocks of the cliff, and his memory regressed to the time he was living a hard life in Romania, carrying the name Nigel Alexejev.</p><p>Will is having a hard time dealing with Nigel, who does not know him, and who spoke in inelegant street slurs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Nigel (Charlie Countryman)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Will and Nigel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Good day. I cannot find the tag Hannibal Extended Universe so I haven't tagged it as such, and I'm only using mobile. This is quite of a rarepair, so read at your own risk.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
Will has always been a silent narrator of his own story, even when his life attacks him in various directions, even when his own mind goes against his control, even when wild randomness disturbs his peace, he remains calm, collected, and melancholic. Usually, he would have a drink or two as he wallows in the quiet. </p><p>How he misses those days. </p><p>If only circumstances are still within their attainable sanity, he would have a dainty drink, talk to Hannibal about his heavy days, quote an ancient philosopher here and there, then call it a night, try to sleep with or without the nightmares. But after the fall, it seems the nightmares exist as soon as the sun rises.</p><p>To start the day, Will takes 4 fingers of whiskey as he cooks the best eggs he could cook. Dr. Hannibal Lecter improved his palette, so his cookings are a little better than when he was a bachelor dog man. He improved even further after purchasing a Latin-American cook book and a few kitchen equipments such as manual sausage maker and oven. </p><p>He itches music, as he began hating the quiet, but he preferred that nobody else utter words in the morning, thus, the necessary choice for classical instrumental music. </p><p>If Hannibal were here, he would come to the kitchen smiling proudly. </p><p>Ah, the man is not dead, by the way. Just different. So different. And it is the root of all Will's current problems. </p><p>*</p><p>Nigel was utterly confused upon waking up, aching allover with salt on his face. The sea, it seems, had spun him around like a cloth inside a washing machine then spat him out to make him feel the immense pain. For all these experience, he was not alone. Another man had been hugging his chest tightly, bloody, disheaveled, <strong><em>beautiful</em></strong>... and he immediately ran a medical check on him.</p><p>Which, by another point, confused him. Since when had he known how to do a medical check? He carefully laid down the man to the sand anyway. After checking he was alright, (except for that nasty stab on the cheek), Nigel sat down beside the man, looking at the dawn of the sun. </p><p>The man woke up a few minutes. He coughed blood and sea water to the sand and then scooted over him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. </p><p>"So what do we do next?" The man said, laying his forehead on Nigel's biceps.</p><p>"Uh, first of all buddy, you have ta tell me who the fuck you are."</p><p>*<br/>
Two days living near the shoreline, surviving off from fishes and nearby vegetation, Nigel got tired of it all and left the man who has not even introduced himself. </p><p>The man, who he mentally called 'fucking weirdo', has not moved so much since waking up. Either he cannot, or he does not want, it's none of his concern. He went to town only to find out he's in USA, which 'doesn't fucking make sense' because last time he checked, he was in Romania doing god knows what. </p><p>Strolling around the town, he managed to steal 5,000 dollars from unsuspecting victims, and another 3,000 from threatening gangsters who tried to jump on him. If only they knew who they were fighting against. This tiny chaotic town is nothing compared to Bucharest, its rats a mere size of cockroaches. </p><p>By his rugged charms, he acquired a nice apartment before nightfall. He even got it 25% off. Either the lady who managed the renting place was charmed, or she heard he beat up the members of the wildest gang, it was, again, none of his concern. </p><p>But the man by the shore is slowly becoming his. </p><p>He went back to the dark and cold shore to find the man in the same position as he was in the morning. His eyes are focused on the horizon, angry, resentful,... <em>Surrendering</em>. Whatever this man has seen, he wants to know. He's always been attracted to gothic beauty. </p><p>"Hey, fucking weirdo, I rented a place."</p><p>The man did not even glance. "Not surprised you managed to be productive in just a day."</p><p>"Yeah I know. I'm amazing. Come, before you die of pneumonia." Nigel said, trying to lift him by his thinning arms.</p><p>"You don't know me. What if I'm a serial killer?" He challenged. The weirdo man looked into his eyes as if searching for something, but Nigel is only sorry he could not provide whatever that is.</p><p>"Man, that's why you're fucking coming with me. Some weird shit is going on, and I want to fucking know."</p><p>*<br/>
Nigel stupidly chose the bachelor pad, with only one bed, one bathroom, and one kitchen with one tiny dining table beside the tiny window.</p><p>"Is this alright for you?" the weirdo man said, judging the place. Nigel only threw his butt on the damaged couch then laid both his arms on its backrest like a king in his abode. </p><p>"Not the best in its deal, but eh, currency is different in America anyway." Nigel inspected the man from head to toe, noticing the way his face slightly scrunches at the place. "Bet you're not used to simplicity."</p><p>The man shook his head grimly. "Simplicity is my style, but it was never yours." he finally stared at Nigel, those bright blue eyes making a curious way into his being. "Who are you?"</p><p>"Nigel Alexejev, I suppose you know me as someone else."</p><p>Will Graham sat at the tacky foldable chair across the couch Nigel was on. He crossed his leg and relaxed his back on its squeaky back rest. "Tell me about yourself, Nigel."</p><p>Nigel scoffed. "Why would I?"</p><p>"A quid pro quo. You tell me something about you, I tell you something about me."</p><p>That piqued Nigel's curiosity. He shifted his seat, gathered his palms together and hunched forward the man. "Know that if I want to know about you, it's not just your job, your hobby, or our relationship. Cuz I could guess them, and I'm not interested. I want to know how we got there, and what have we been doing. I need functional details, not your dating profile."</p><p>Then he grined smugly, showing all his crooked teeth. He realized this man goes uncomfortable whenever he does that.</p><p>"Alright." The man sighed, switching his crossed leg. "You tell me something about you, I tell you something I know about you. Deal?"</p><p>"Ah, there we go. What a smart psychiatrist you are."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I'm not a psychiatrist, Mr. Nigel Alexejev. You got my job wrong, I wonder what else you could not read. How disappointing."</p><p>And his disappointment, Nigel could see, is attached with sadness. "Eh," He shrugged that, nonetheless. "I could live with that."</p><p>The man resumed the interrogation anyway. "What do you do, Nigel?"</p><p>"Uh, I own pub chains in Bucharest."</p><p>"A business man. Tell me, how does that explain your physical prowess?"</p><p>"My man, it seems you know what you wanna get."</p><p>And he was only met by the man's serious silence.</p><p>"Okay, okay. You could say I was a gangster. But not full time. Only became one to protect myself and my properties. Life's tough in a rebellious communist city, you know."</p><p>The man nodded. "Do you know a man named Hannibal Lecter?"</p><p>In a blink of an eye, Nigel flew on top of the man, the tacky chair flipping itself close and became a painful obstacle between the man's sore back and the cold floor. The man did not change his expression, only the calm that says a certain kind of surrender. That again. Whoever this man is, he doesn't mind dying. How intriguing. How attractive. How dangerous.</p><p>"How did you know my real name? Who sent you? Are you a fucking Russian spy?"</p><p>"No. I could tell you something about myself, but you're not interested."</p><p>"Don't fuck with me! Who are you?"</p><p>"We're on the run, together." the man calmly. "I know you for someone else, I know you as Hannibal Lecter, the man who promised me his life and death. I don't know how you became a Nigel Alexejev, but I'm willing to stay until you return. Tell me Nigel, is this amnesia, or split personality?"</p><p>Nigel let him loose. He sat on the floor, knee propped up to support his arm. The man slowly sat up, and Nigel could only stare at how elegant that simple action looked. </p><p>His calm and elegance (and melancholy) is so contagious, that Nigel calmed down himself.</p><p>"Man, today I just learned that it's 2013. Fucking wild. I thought the year was 1985. But I don't remember what I was doing before I got knocked up to this time and date."</p><p>"Classic isolated retrograde amnesia." the man stated professionaly. Is he really not a psychiatrist?</p><p>"Should we knock my head again?"</p><p>"No. That's a myth, and that could actually worsen your head."</p><p>"Aw, maybe we should..."</p><p>"Let's not try to solve it using your soviet soap opera."</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>The men went silent, no words needed to understand that they will have to wait for a while until the 28 years of lost memory returns. They only hope this retrograde amnesia is not as permanent. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nigel is a flirt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another day of 'getting to know you' phase.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First few parts will always be Will's POV, while the rest will be Nigel's.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once, out of curiosity, Will Graham asked Hannibal about his attraction. It was not in their office, it was not in the sitting room, it was not with wine, nor whisky, nor five-star Michelin home cuisine. It was in a Shell station in the outskirts of Virginia, filling gasoline for the police car they stole. Hannibal was still wearing the white jumpsuit issued by Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and Will was wearing an FBI jacket over a dress shirt.   </p><p>"How did you fall inlove with me?" Will asked out of nowhere. </p><p>Hannibal smiled, impressed by his forwardness. "I immediately read you as soon as you sat down beside me in Jack's office. You could say it was infatuation at first sight, and love at first blood."</p><p>"Garett Jacob Hobbs' blood."</p><p>Hannibal nodded.</p><p>"How gothic."</p><p>Will could almost laugh at the circumstances. Nigel does not cook, he does not groom, and he has no classical type of sophistication. He did retain the medical knowledge and the inclination to observe for entertainment. </p><p>But there were a lot of things missing that Will assumes he only honed at the next 30 years of life: drinking wine, quoting ancient texts, ability to accurately read people, hiding his emotions through a person-suit, and so on. This Hannibal Lecter named Nigel Alexejev is a lot more open, emotional, and violent. </p><p>Another thing, Nigel is a flirt. </p><p>Infatuation at first sight. </p><p>*</p><p>"Hello gorgeous." Nigel greeted as soon as he enters the kitchen. The man was cooking bacon, and Nigel just came back from town for a few bread slices. </p><p>When Nigel settled the groceries to the table, he went to the counter where the man was just standing still while waiting for the bacon strips to shrink. He, for the lack of self-restraint, touched his soft bottom. The curly man jerked for a milli-second. It would have been hard to catch if Nigel was not focusing intently on his expression.</p><p>"Put your hand away, Nigel." he said. He wasn't mad, he wasn't enraged. He was just disappointed.</p><p>That again.</p><p>"Well, well, but aren't these mine?" Nigel teased, squishing the man's bottoms, jiggling it to garner more reaction. </p><p>In one swift action, the man punched Nigel's stomach. When he hunched over to nurse his abdomen, the man only retracted his figure so fast it seems he did not move at all. "No. They aren't."</p><p>"Oh, come on." Nigel smirked. "Are we not sexually involved?"</p><p>"Not sexual, no."</p><p>"Um, romantically, at least?"</p><p>The man shook his head.</p><p>"Then what are we? We're not bestfriends, I'm sure. And I know I fucking like you, I mean, your face is quite pretty and I could really bang your perky little ass. My man, I'm not homosexual, but I would really like to fuck you."</p><p>Nigel's challenging smirk dropped when he saw the man's expression. Not only can he read disappointment, he can now see disgust. The man did not change his demeanor, nor tried to punch him again. He just moved to flip over the bacon and pretended Nigel did not say anything. </p><p>"Alright." Nigel walked over the dining area to sit and nibble on the bread. Eating has always been his way of controlling the situation. Things could happen around him, but as soon as he eats, he begins not to care. "Can you at least tell me your name?"</p><p>"No." Was the man's brief reply.</p><p>"And why not?"</p><p>The man prepared the bacon strips unto the table, and began eating. "I would rather you tell me my name."</p><p>"Well, I can't fucking remember a thing about you." After saying that, Nigel saw the man wince, but very silently. "You know what, you remind me of Placido Penitente."</p><p>The man perked up. He stopped eating to listen to whatever literary psychobabble Nigel will say. </p><p>"Placido Penitente is a character from this Spanish manuscript my father brought home once. Placido is a poor and silent man attending a university in Spanish Colonial Philippines. Rumors of the revolution were spreading, and the students of that university was, in no way, involved in it. Nonetheless, the friars kept saying they have all the list of Filibusteros, or you know, the revolutionists. Placido was said to be in the list. Placido was just silently studying, doing his own business, until everything around him collapsed and he was dragged down without his own control."</p><p>"Was it gradual?"</p><p>"It was. He can see everything around him crumble, and he could not do anything."</p><p>The man nodded. "Placido means 'quiet', Penitente means 'Suffering'. Do you think I'm quietly suffering, Nigel?"</p><p>Nigel shrugged. "Well, you know my real identity, and it seems I shared so much with you. But I am not the Hannibal Lecter you know. That is disappointing you, but you can't really do anything about it, can you?"</p><p>The man went to cupping his coffee, but he has not lifted a single finger to bring it to his lips. Too tired, too sad, too bothered by thoughts. The man looked away to face the window that illuminates the small apartment in early morning light. He settled there, he sighed quietly, and they both understood that it's a silent agreeing. </p><p>"Nigel..." the man bathed in the grey light of dawn filled the silence once more. </p><p>"You can call me Hannibal..."</p><p>"No." he said, making eye-contact to carry the word with enough weight.</p><p>Nigel nodded, feeling ashamed for some reasons. "Alright, then I will call you Adam."</p><p>"Adam?"</p><p>"It's not like I will call you Placido Penitente, that's fucking long."</p><p>The man, now named Adam, smiled for the first time, but it was low and quick. Nigel treasured that small moment, as if the 49 year old Hannibal Lecter had just wormed his way to the consciousness of 20 year old Nigel Alexejev. It was a wonderful moment, and he will do everything he can to keep the man happy. </p><p>*</p><p>Adam did not like the things he bought, and it seems he did not care that they costed them so much. He gave them away to a few homeless, then proceeded on shopping for new groceries. </p><p>"What the hell is wrong with them?" Nigel complained. It was only 8 am, and they decided to leave the apartment to breathe and get decent groceries. He wears a knock-off adidas track suit pants, and a sky blue polo shirt with doggy prints. </p><p>Adam surely addressed the distaste by a scowl. He decided to wear a cheap dress suit and a comfortable straight-cut slacks. He also went for a vest, because why not?</p><p>"They're not healthy." Adam said, picking up a white onion to inspect. He diligently assessed each one before putting them in the basket for weighing. "You should be particular on what you put in your body."</p><p>"Ugh, please. You sound like my Aunt Murasaki."</p><p>"You know, your Aunt Murasaki trained you to appreciate the finer things in life."</p><p>"No way, really? I can't believe I survived that. Where is she now? Is she still alive? How about uncle Robertus?"</p><p>The man looked at him forlornly, and with that, Nigel understood. </p><p>"I see. Well, they would be 80 or so, by now. Was it of old age?"</p><p>"Memories will flood in when the time comes." the man said as he went in the quaint shop that smells of capuccino, old wood, and books. There, the man holds anything that catches his interest, observing it like a queen choosing a jewel for her new crown. Nigel is impressed, and somehow, he was proud.</p><p>"Then who taught you to appreciate the finer things in life?"</p><p>The man looked back at him and made a soft eye-contact. "You."</p><p>For some reasons, Nigel felt a deep guilt, which he begrudgingly swallowed for the fact that 'he is the great Nigel and he never feels guilty for what he had done and what he had failed to do'. Nonetheless, the man's sadness made him feel uncomfortable. </p><p>"You know, after I escaped from Lithuania, I went to Romania telling everyone I'm Estonian. Some Russian weirdoes were looking for me."</p><p>"I could guess." The man interjected, continuing his search for something vintage to buy. "Count Lecter's family died being one of the last Aristocrats of Eastern Europe's royalists. USSR wanted to expand further, and they have to do it by crunching any symbolisms of a monarchial past. You and these soviet soldiers had a little disagreement."</p><p>A little disagreement is the funniest way to put it. It was a cold winter and the soldiers found their way to their secluded castle with a mission to hunt all Lithuanian royalists. However, they couldn't find their way out, as Hannibal suffered the emotional toll of losing everyone he held dear. He made a floppy art out of the soldier's carcass, then ate their organs when the winter proved to be harsher than expected. It was his becoming.</p><p>"Woah, did I tell you everything? We're probably married."</p><p>"Not everything." The man picked up an ancient Japanese tea pot, and inspected it from handle to spout. He smiled softly to Nigel. "You never told me about Romania. All I know is that after escaping soviet soldiers, your uncle Robertus hunted you down and brought you to Florence."</p><p>"I stumbled to Romania to hide, and to recklessly forget about everything. It was a fun time." The man showed intrigue and curiosity, and as much as he knows it means he must sate it, he was beginning to be intrigued as well. "Tell me Adam, why the fuck would the Hannibal Lecter you know hide everything about Nigel Alexejev? As far as I know, I'm fucking awesome." </p><p>"You're absolutely right. It would have been a great romantic date conversation starter."</p><p>"Was that sarcasm?"</p><p>"Definitely."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for the support!</p><p>Why can't Will Graham just sit down and make Nigel tell everything?</p><p>And why can't Nigel do the same?</p><p>The answer is that they both know it's useless. Will clearly does not like Nigel, and Nigel can feel this. Nonetheless, they want to stay together. </p><p>Also because this is still Hannibal (TV) universe and people suck at direct communication.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Will is a somber man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will Graham has a few knowldge here and there about classic literature from high school, from his dad, Frank Graham, who was a fan of tragic romance, and from his own readings, which consisted of gothic and baroque romance.  The texts that he had read, unconsciously, were centralized to American, British, and French works, works that, though stunning, can be easily quoted by everyone.  It did not surprise him that Hannibal can quote works that are beyond the horizons of a typical European. Jose Rizal, the author of El Filibusterismo, the novel where Placido Penitente is a character, is a Filipino writer in Spain and France, but only a few scholars had encountered his name. When Nigel was explaning the text to him, likening him to the character, Will can hear it in Dr. Hannibal Lecter's voice, the psychiatrist he got interested in, the man who can see his darkness and loved him not despite of, but especially because. He himself cannot justify that what he feels is romantic, but Will is sure that he cannot live without him, now that he's seen that being with him is beautiful.</p><p>It has been five days since the first day they settled in a small busy area in Southport North Carolina. Will especially likes the apartment Nigel rented, being it facing the port where dozens of boats pass by. Hannibal was not an avid fan of the sea, but he proved more than once that he can adjust his lifestyle to accomodate a Will Graham in his vicinity.</p><p>Though little, Will can see traces of his Hannibal sitting pretty in the subconscious of the rugged man who talks like a ganster and who glares like a mob boss threatening you for a dollar. And though impossibly unthinkable, Will is beginning to adore him all the same.</p><p>*</p><p>For the fifth day since renting the place, the land lady, Nigel noticed, had tried to build an elderly relationship with his housemate. She explained that she didn't know Nigel would be living with someone, and that if it has proven to be difficult, she can put them in the couple's apartment. Adam politely declined, explaining that they will move to Italy soon anyway.</p><p>When Adam entered the room, Nigel calmly sitting by the kitchen counter, he met him with a question. "Why are we going to Italy? And can we actually go there?"</p><p>"No." the man replied, sitting down by the window to open a tablet. "We won't go to Italy, it's just to confuse the FBI if they happen to follow our trace here. We will go to Cuba."</p><p>"To Cuba? Do I have a say in this?"</p><p>The man stared at him for a while, before laughing. "It's funny. If circumstances were different, I would be the one asking you that." He looked down at the tablet again, scrolling through the contents to show Nigel something. Nigel went near to look clearly. "One of your underground contacts approached me to give these details. Hannibal, apparently, already prepared assets and passports for our trip to Cuba. I have no say in any of his plans, all I have to do is to follow with or without my consent."</p><p>"That's really wild." Nigel grunted. "So I have no right to complain whatsoever."</p><p>The man nodded, his lips thinning to a bitter smile.</p><p>"Then why did my underground contact approach you and not me?"</p><p>"Your underground contact was informed that we have conjugal assets. His deals with you are also his deals with me. He also refused to be seen with you since you made a distasteful introduction to the local gang."</p><p>Nigel shrugged, a bit proud of the information. Suddenly, his confusion to took place. "Conjugal?"</p><p>"I have no idea how Hannibal legally binded us, but he managed to. It's probably not marriage, but all his lawyers, underground and overground, are informed of the situation. He also left a living will to my name."</p><p>"Um, so, we have money?" Nigel asked. He, however, did not miss the sudden drop of the man's face, as if his focus on the money disappointed him. That was the reason, probably.</p><p>And what could he have probably thought about? That he basically married this pretty man, but he can't remember anyway? That he had finally fortified his underground connections, but he cannot feel it was his achievement? Or the fact that his 'husband' does not recognize him as his 'Hannibal' to the point of addressing him in third person?</p><p>In this arrangement, he feels like he's been walking on eggshells, careful not to crack the somber man's patience over something he could not control. On the other hand, why must he even have to care? He does have unknown feelings for the man, as if he can find nourishment at the very sight of him. In the most rational sense, he must let the man take over until his memories return. </p><p>Unfortunately, Nigel Alexejev is an entirely different person from Hannibal. Nigel was a created persona with a sole purpose of hiding from soviet officers and surviving Bucharest. He swallowed his upper class complaints and lived with the violence and the awfulness of the human race. At the age of 18, he promised himself that he will someday live in luxury and punish those who inconvenience him by being rudely human. </p><p>Nigel is different. </p><p>The pretty man is right, he is not Hannibal.</p><p>"I don't want to go to Cuba." He continued.</p><p>"And why?"</p><p>Nigel smirked as he lies his back to the couch. He dispered his limbs, widening his legs and setting his palms on them. Relaxed, masculine, dominant. A set of personality traits he honed to start businesses in Bucharest. He expects this basic intimidation to work on the man, because who is he anyway? </p><p>"I like it here. We have a lot money that I worked hard for. We can get a new apartment so I could finally sleep in a motherfucking bed, since you are sleeping in mine. But hey, I'm alright with you sleeping there, I like my bitch well-rested."</p><p>The man closed his eyes to sigh, probably hitting Nigel in his mind. "Call me your bitch again, Nigel, and we are going to have a problem."</p><p>"And what are you gonna do? Punch me?"</p><p>"Yeah, I might." the man stood up, looking like a threat for the first time. He has a certain monstrosity in his eyes. His lithe frame is expanding. He could only describe this as a lion's mane growing from a lamb. Nigel was confused that he was elated instead of scared. "I think it's time for you to know that we're on the run because we murdered people, individually and together, and at some point, we tried to kill each other. I don't mind getting physical with you, Nigel."</p><p>"Alright." and he tried to play it cool. "Then I guess you hold the finances, Mrs. Lecter."</p><p>"I'm not your fucking wife." he seethed.</p><p>"Did not say you are. I said, Mrs. Lecter, not Mrs. Alexejev." Nigel challenged. He stared at the man's blue eyes, stormy but calming. </p><p>The man sat down slowly and put his palms together to rub his entire face. "You know what, Nigel, fine. Do whatever you want. But I say when we need to run, or hide, or lay low. I get to say our fake stories and fake identities..."</p><p>"Actually, Adam, you are not obliged to do any of that. Run away to Cuba for all I care, just leave me some money."</p><p>The man stared at him, pausing in disbelief. Their eyes held each other with different emotions; his, a heartbreak. Nigel's, regret. </p><p>It was obvious by the way his throat wobbles that he hated everything Nigel is not. Forcing his thoughts in seems to be his talent. He stared at the sea to look away from Nigel. </p><p>Nigel could see his silhouette against the sunset. It was familiar and endearing, but his sadness saddens him. Just how important is this man for him, for Hannibal?</p><p>"I can't live without you, Hannibal."</p><p>Nigel stood up with not much control, and crouched down to embrace the man's sitting form. His subconscious says he's pleased that the man said he can't leave without him. His subconscious says he's sad that he had to say it in such manner. His subconscious is nagging him for ever suggesting they part. His subconscious clearly loved the pretty man with dark eyes and constant disgruntled mood.</p><p>"And I can't live without you, Will Graham."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry that the first 3 chapters were conversation heavy. I suppose I wanted establishment first before we go to the crazy parts. </p><p>The next chapters will be dynamic, though, action-packed narratives are a bit of a challenge for me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nigel's husband</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'Will Graham.'</p><p>His subconscious said. It was like an exam when he did not review at all, but the universe had conspired to give him an answer.</p><p>Nigel is certain Hannibal did not just whisper, he came out momentarily if only for the purpose of embracing the man he has been aching for. After the moment, Nigel seems to come back, even wondering why would he embrace the man.</p><p>Will was crying, looking at him, as if expecting a wicked smile or a sad welcome. Nigel's chest panged in guilt for not being able to give any of that. Hannibal came and went quickly, and with Nigel's wider eyes refusing to stare any longer, Will understood the case.</p><p>In disappointment, he stands up without emotion to walk towards the only room in the apartment. The door closes gently, but Nigel prefers to hear an angry slam.</p><p>He hates Will Graham's depressed resignation.</p><p>*</p><p>For two weeks, Nigel has been staying out of the apartment. There was simply no point of staying, cramped in a dingy apartment, or else Will might never get out of the room to eat.</p><p><br/>The older man gets out as early as 5 am to jog around the boulevard. At 7 am, he would eat something from the nearby fast food house, then continue walking around Southport to look at quaint shops. Sometimes, he would venture to the rough parts of the neighborhood to meet some interesting people or simply beat up and extort money from men who would be rude to passing ladies. He really hates rudeness.</p><p>Two weeks of doing this eventually got him introduced to a local gang, the rival gang of the hoodlums he made a bad introduction with. Nigel was open, charming, strong and understanding to the young members, that he quickly gained the favor and everyone; everyone but the leader himself. The leader kept it civil, but Nigel could already feel the tension whenever he visits their crappy safe house.</p><p>He would come back at 10 pm in the evening, sometimes with groceries and books. One time, he bought a book about motor boats and sailing for God knows what reason. It was only a second-hand costing 2 dollars anyway.</p><p>Oddly enough, Will would not lock his door. Sometimes, Nigel could have the liberty to open it in the middle of the night just to see the man's sleeping face.</p><p>*</p><p>"Jesus Christ, what is this Nigel!" Will said at 8 pm. He almost panicked because Nigel is not usually around these times. What raised his voice was the fact that Nigel came with a bloody nose and a broken arm. He took the first-aid kit quickly and sat by his side on the sofa. "You idiot! You may have the mind of a 20 year old, but please consider that you're actually 50! Are you playing mob with youngsters? Are you crazy?"</p><p>Their neighbor to the left knocked the wall a bit too loudly, garnering a glare from Nigel.</p><p>"Oh, this is nothing. It's..." Nigel would have want to explain his heroism, that he beat up 3 guys who were holding up a poor student.<br/>"This is nothing I cannot handle."</p><p>"Stop being an idiot. I can't deal with this."</p><p>"You don't have to, actually. The doors are always open."</p><p>Nigel wanted to retract what he said, but it's too late. Will did not react, but he knows something is happening in that beautiful mind of his.</p><p>Will finishes the mending of wounds. There is nothing he could do with his arms but nurse it back to health.</p><p>*</p><p>Will had not allowed Nigel to leave the house after that. He was not violently reprimanded, it seems the man does not know how to produce violence from his constantly calm and resigned demeanor. Nigel stayed because he knows he must heal, and that he is a bit excited how Will would take care of him.</p><p>He was very... Casual so far. A clinical kind of care as if he was a nurse and not a lover. Nigel accepted anything Will can offer, to be honest.</p><p>"Why are you sleeping on the sofa?" He asked when he saw Will lying down on it, reading the book about boats.</p><p>"You need a more comfortable sleeping bed. Don't fight with me on this, I'm busy."</p><p>Nigel was pleased. The beautiful man cares! That is why it shook him when, after three more days, he was running downtown to look for any transportation spots such as ferries and trains to catch a glimpse of Will's curly hair.</p><p>Earlier that morning, Nigel had not found the man's sleeping form in the sofa. It was odd that Will has gone out, he thought he's a home-person. He shrugged it off to start cooking breakfast for once, thinking, 'maybe Will's back is aching because of the uncomfortable sleeping position'. When he was about to throw a burnt egg, he saw a bunch of yellow papers crumpled in the trash can. He picked one, and then another, having one or two sentences that reads;</p><p>'<em><strike>Dearest Hannibal, I realized</strike></em>'<br/>'<em>Dear Nigel, I think it is better for <strike>the both of us'</strike></em></p><p>And finally, he found a crumpled paper that contains the most writing.</p><p>
  <em>Nigel,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am sorry, but I'm leaving.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The past week has been a toll on me, with my mind constantly aching for Hannibal Lecter that could have been within reach but not. You are him, I know, yet you are not.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Retrograde Amnesia affects a person differently in reality. While most drama shows would often treat it as temporary head trauma, there are many cases that the person never regains their memory.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nigel, I know you have affections for me, but those affections are not truly yours, they are from the man I love. You have not met in Romania, you do not know me. You met me in FBI and rudely psychoanalyzed my mental disorder. I stormed out and slammed the door, even so, you brought me breakf</em>
</p><p>The letter was not finished, and on the paper, a few water drops smudge some words. It is probable that Will left, deciding not to even leave a letter because it's a huge waste of time.</p><p>He did mention the door is always open.</p><p>He felt so stupid.</p><p>Nigel, with his injuries healed, ran around the blocks to check for Will, sometimes even stopping a bunch of frightened locals for his whereabouts. Nobody, apparently, saw Will Graham.</p><p>"Hey, boss." One familiar junior from the gang called him on the street. He thinks the name is Delaware. "Why do you look frantic?"</p><p>"Will, my roommate..." he took a deep breath, dear god, he really is a 50 year old man, "He's missing."</p><p>"What? Why look for him like he stole yo money? Did he steal your money? You want us to teach him a lesson?"</p><p>"What? No! No! He's my Husband! I just want him home." Nigel yelled, although he instantly regretted it, knowing South Carolina is not a very accepting state.</p><p>The junior made a face in disgust, which would have earned him a surprisingly angry punch if Nigel was not focused on something else. Another junior, known for his gentleness, (Franco?) took the mantle. "Marital dispute, I suppose?"</p><p>Nigel nodded. He started to run again to look for Will, deciding staying long with these youngsters is not worth it.</p><p>If he had stayed, he would have heard the junior say 'I will tell the gang to help you find him.'</p><p>To which the other junior replied, 'No way I'm helping that faggot.'</p><p>*</p><p>It was lunch time when Nigel decided to let Will Graham go. He's probably not in Southport by now, so why should he even bother to look for him? He absent-mindedly sat down in a small Italian-themed café, ordered some sandwich and a cup of black coffee, and then tried to calm down by eating.</p><p>While consuming the food, which was awfully not in his pallette---Will's cooking being better than most---he begun to plan about leaving Southport. With that FBI warrant, he would be found soon, anyway.</p><p>It pains him that Will didn't care anymore. He does not know the man that much, but he cares for him. It hurts to know that Nigel is easy to give-up, and it pains him more that Hannibal Lecter might not be worth being patient for.</p><p>It really hurts when someone just gives up on you.</p><p>He walked mindlessly back to their apartment. He berated himself that there is nothing of value in that place to bring for his journey, but the Hannibal Lecter inside him reasoned that he might want to lie on the sofa to sniff the final evidence of having a Will Graham in his life.</p><p>'How needlessly dramatic.'<br/>'You might be surprised what other needless things we have done for him.' The other voice said.</p><p>Before he could even reach the apartment, the two juniors welcomed him. The gentle one looks worried, while the bigoted one looks irritated.</p><p>"Mr. Nigel!" the gentle one started, looking worried. "Your husband, we found him! But the leader got him and now he's being held."</p><p>"What? Why THE FUCKING HELL IS HE THERE?"</p><p>The bigot answered distastefully, "Well, he's a faggot and so are you, so we told the leader."</p><p>The other junior attempted to shush his companion, but Nigel was quick. At least the bigoted boy is not a teenager; just a useless mid-20s, and so he allowed himself to release the anger and punched the boy in the face.</p><p>He fell down with the impact, the gentle boy rushing to his friend's side. "Mr. Nigel, we did not mean to. It seems the leader hates you and..."</p><p>Nigel approached again to punch the more polite boy. Kind or not, he was careless enough to put Will in danger. His vision is too red to function.</p><p>Maybe it was why Will left.</p><p>He's hot-tempered, impulsive, and violent. Nothing like the psychoanalyzing doctor he met in the FBI.</p><p>The boy only braced himself, but the other boy, the one whose face is already bloodied, tried to stand up to cover his friend using his own body.</p><p>Nigel stopped. The boys froze.</p><p>He must gather himself together and do what is most important. He ran towards the safe house with determination.</p><p>*</p><p>Will's face is beaten and bruised, but judging from the gang leader's face, he put up a decent fight. However, since they woke up by the cliff, Will has not eaten very properly, and has not moved to ever acquaint his body for self-defence. He blames himself for Will's depression.</p><p>Nigel did not let anyone say a word. He headbutted the doorman so hard he passed out, he broke glass bottles to stab incoming attackers, and finally, he snatched a gun to kill the leader.</p><p>Will was by his feet, in the process of being kicked down. He could hear the man moan in pain as he tried to stand up.</p><p>"Will, do not try to stand up!"</p><p>"I'm okay. I got him good, too."</p><p>Nigel ran to his side immediately, checking all of Will's bones and wounds. He seems, fine.</p><p>"To be fair, the leader only showed he wanted to hurt me. He wanted me for himself, not to feel pretty here."</p><p>Nigel smiled, thankful for the small mercies. Nonetheless, he wanted the gang leader alive again so he could kill him in different way. What right does he have to think he can own Will Graham?</p><p>'Even I, the great Hannibal Lecter, Baltimore's most desired bachelor, found it hard to even have Will as a simple acquaintance.'</p><p>Footsteps distracted them to look towards the broken door of the gang leader's dingy room. On its frame are the two mid-twenty juniors, one of them sporting a bloody nose. The more polite junior, who seems too kind to be in a gang (Nigel guessed he's only in it for the other useless one), looks shaken.</p><p>"Mr... Mr. Nigel, we came to check because..."</p><p>The boy with a bloody face looked terrified as well. "Frankie, let's get away from here."</p><p>Will finally stood up, quite effortlessly, "They saw us Nigel. They will report us, and it's only a matter of time before the the FBI finds our trail."</p><p>"You want me to kill them?" Nigel looked at Will in disbelief.</p><p>"Can you not?"</p><p>The boy with a bloody face pulled Frankie away, but he's too shaken of the dead bodies lingering around. "Frankie, please... Let's get away from here. They will kill us next."</p><p>"Dale..." the boy clung to the other, his face ghostly pale.</p><p>Will approached the two, Nigel could not even stop him. When he's at the safe distance, the boys, who could not run with Dale injured and Frankie rooted to place, fell to the ground together, looking up at the lithe man with such fear Nigel was sure he is the scariest man they have ever seen despite being exposed to the rough parts of the neighborhood. They have seen men and women angry, but not a deity.</p><p>"I will spare you both, but be sure not to tell anyone, because I will come back for you." Will said, his voice probably booming in their minds despite its demurity.</p><p>"We won't Mr. Nigel's husband. We promise." The one named Frankie stammered against Dale's chest.</p><p>After Frankie's words, he begun trembling even more, yet it is not because of fear, but of a panic attack. Will's eyes changed to concern, and a little jerk from his knee almost told Nigel he wanted to help. However, they both saw that Dale knew what to do. He gave Frankie the typical instructions such as 'follow my breathing' and the likes until Frankie is breathing softly and back at Dale's chest.</p><p>"Why would you stay with him Frankie? He's not good for you." Nigel asked the boy. Dale glares. "This gangster mess will be the start of all the inconveniences you will face, and it's not good for your fragile mental health. He's even a fucking bigot. Well, I don't know if you're gay, but you're better than him. Being around this twerp will be poisonous."</p><p>"Whatever!" Dale shouted, "Why don't you just fucking leave! We're okay, we're not telling the fucking police. We'll say it's the rival gang, now fucking go!"</p><p>"Dale..." Frankie, still weak, pulled the other boy's shirt to calm him down..</p><p>"And why do you keep him? To make yourself look superior? Because a poor sickly boy is following you around?"</p><p>"Stop! That's not true!"</p><p>"... Is it because you feel happy to have him around? Even when he's not safe and happy with you?"</p><p>Dale, at this point, just sadly stares at Frankie's face, who shook his head to disprove Nigel's tirade.</p><p>Will was looking at him with understanding. Nigel is obviously not just talking about the boys. He held Nigel's trembling hand and pulled him out of the room. They left the boys, Dale cradling the still weak Frankie unto his chest.</p><p>"I've been thinking a lot." Will started when they are finally at a safe distance from the hide out.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"I want to stay with you, it doesn't matter who you are at this moment. You are still the man I loved, the man who held my heart and ate it. My flesh is still within your bowels, and I will always be connected to you."</p><p>Nigel shrugged. "I don't know. I probably have pooped your flesh a long time ago then."</p><p>Will sighed in endearing disappointment, something Nigel saw for the first time.</p><p>He continued, nonetheless. "Just know Will, I may have remembered your name and my affections for you, but there is nothing else. I am..."</p><p>Will cut him off with a kiss. Nigel's eyes widen, and he kept his eyes glued to Will's beautiful orbs as the other man moves away.</p><p>"As long as we're together, we will figure it out."</p><p>"Even when you are sad? Last two weeks you were more than sad, like depressed, and all..."</p><p>"And you bought a book about boats that really cheered me up."</p><p>"But you were thinking of running away?"</p><p>"Because I was really depressed, Nigel. Reminiscing you and my old peaceful life in Virginia. Dark days do really give me a desire to run away, but I cannot leave you. So do me a favor, stop leaving me alone, especially when I need you. I would need my space, but from everybody else but you. Understand that."</p><p>"Roger!" Nigel exclaimed, "I will never leave you, I know I'm the only companion you have and I will stay with you everyday, forever, Will!"</p><p>Will kissed him again, with full smiles and sparkly eyes. "Okay. Now let's go to Cuba."</p><p>*</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you tune in for more chapters. We will be having Nigel for a long time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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